


A Bandit’s Doctor

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Bit of Cursing, Doctor AU, Gen, I use that tag a lot, Kidnapping, Kinda, M/M, Publishing on phone again, Stockholm Syndrome, Wild West AU, may update, some minor blood, such a tedious task, yall known anti
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Doctor Mark Fischbach is the only fully trained doctor within a ten mile radius of quite a few small towns that constantly need his and his protege, Ethan Nestor’s, help. However, when a strange man seemingly wounded is found crumpled in their barn, Mark finds out his help is needed elsewhere as well. What fun





	A Bandit’s Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> I had this fic in the workings for a while. I wrote about half of it around a few months ago and then abandoned it with no intention of finishing it before I found it again and decided to pick it back up. So this it: the finalized, picked up version. I have no idea if I’ll continue this or not, though I do have the whole story planned out. Maybe if enough people like it I’ll continue it.

Dust brushes against the bare parts of Mark’s legs as he steps across the sand covered ground, dead and dying yellow grass crunching beneath his feet. A few stickers cling to his knee high boots, digging their spiny clutches into the rubber of the soles. His mid long, black hair is buffeted madly by the wind and the loose clothing he currently wears dances along his sun kissed skin, a shadow falling across his eyes as the hat he wears blocks the harsh rays of sunlight out. He can hear Ethan rambling behind him, the young man fussing quietly to himself about how it was probably a cougar or a bandit raid. 

Mark’s grip around the holstered pistol tightens and he glances over his shoulder at Ethan, making sure he still holds the shotgun. Nearby he can hear their horses nickering loudly, snorting occasionally as they draw nearer. The barn soon looms over them, sand brushing against the holes in its sides as they approach. 

That’s when Mark’s eyes land on the unfamiliar, loose horse. It is standing beside the barn, turning it’s large, black eyes towards them. It snorts, dust and air exploding in front of its face as it’s head rears back, ears drawing to its skull. A dark brown saddle is strapped tightly around its stomach, a large bag of goods tied haphazardly on its back. 

Blood stains the ground around its hooves. It trails into the barn and Mark can already hear Ethan’s rambling grow faster. The young man never has been good with blood, even if he is training to be a doctor. 

“Ethan,” Mark said as he turned to the other, breaking off the endless trail of worried muttering. The young man jumps, light eyes widening as they meet Mark’s darker pair. “You get the horse and check it for injuries. See if you can find a clue of who our mysterious guest is.” He pauses, cocking the gun as he slowly pulls it from its holster. “I’ll go greet our guest.”

Ethan swallows heavily and shakes his head, raising the shotgun. “You take this one, Mark,” he said quickly. “You’ll be dealin with the person. They could be armed.”

Mark considers this a moment before nodding with a grim smile, trading guns with his protege. “Be careful,” he said. “Horse seems a bit spooked.”

He then turns towards the barn entrance, lowering the barrel of the gun as he stalks forward, eyes locked on the doors. The dust filled winds press and brush against his face but he doesn’t even blink as Ethan passes him, hurrying towards the fearful steed. 

Mark reaches the barn entrance in a few more steps and he pushes it open with his right hand, holding the shotgun in his left. The inside is dimly lit, the only source of light being the thin rays of sunlight clawing its way through small holes in the walls and roof. The rope necklace dangles around his neck, the heart shaped ruby brushing against the dusty brown cloth covering his chest. It’s the only piece of jewelry he’d ever wear. 

The soft sound of a pained gasp causes Mark to freeze, entire body going stock still. His eyes slowly shift to the right, scanning the area before him until they finally land on the source: a young man that looks to be around his age collapsed on the dirt floor. Mark raises the shotgun barrel instantly but hesitated as the injured man’s green eyes land on him, a small and eerie chuckle reaching his ears. 

“Shooting an injured man?” he said, his voice which sounds like it would normally be deep and proud scratchy and shaky. Mark slowly lowers the gun, only now seeing the large blood stain on the man’s ragged shirt. It covers the entire area above his stomach and sides and Mark can already tell it was from a gun. “Lousy man, then.”

“I’d watch how you speak to me currently,” Mark replied, his stomach boiling already with his doctor’s instinct. He wants to rush forward and quickly help the wounded man but he knows anyone could be dangerous out here. “I am the man who currently holds your life in his hands.”

The man chuckles once more and shakes his head, green, almost glowing eyes shutting as he tuts. “I feel as though you wouldn’t shoot me over something I’d said,” he points out a moment later. He coughs after, blood dripping onto his chin from between his lips and Mark knows he needs serious surgery. 

“Yes, but I’d leave you to die,” Mark replied with a firm nod, fully lowering the shotgun. “I am the only doctor in miles in this area.” 

“Unless you count the boy with you.”

“I wouldn’t, yet.”

Shaking his head once more the man lowers his chin to his chest, obviously tired. “Alright,” he said in surrender. “Help me out, doc?”

“You’ll owe me,” Mark said with a smirk even as he moves forward, reaching a hand out to help the man up. “You’ll owe me, mister…?”

“Just call me Anti,” the man informed abruptly, letting Mark pull an arm around his shoulders. “Now tell me, who will I owe?”

“Doctor Mark Fischbach,” he answered, leading his newest patient to the exit. “Call me Mark, though.”

“Nah,” Anti said with a grin. “I think imma stick with doc, doc.” 

Mark allows this as he leads Anti for the shed he keeps any patients he gets. 

What a ride he’d be on in a few hour’s time. 

;;;

Fixing the mysterious man called Anti was a quick and simple task. He merely had to dig out the bullet, clean the wound and then sew it shut. He finished quickly, rubbing his hands together as soon as he pulls the bloody gloves from his skin. He sets them on a nearby counter and glances back to the man now hunched over on the table as he catches his breath, the quick surgery having winded him. 

Mark leans on the wall, crossing both his feet and arms. Anti looks up at him just as Ethan enters the shed, his green eyes glowing with an unreadable emotion. But Mark believes it looks almost like triumph. He ignores it for now, looking to his protege. 

“The steed is with the other horses now,” Ethan informed as he glanced over at Anti, face paling a tad bit at the sight of blood gathered on the man’s shirt. He swallows heavily and Mark shakes his head, continuing to wonder why Ethan would take this job when he’s so squeamish towards blood. He comes to a halt beside Mark, wetting his lips as he looks at the rest of Anti. “So, this is who caused the disturbance?”

“Had himself shot through the stomach,” Mark said in confirmation, watching Anti push up to a sitting position. “The dog was nearly dead when I got him.”

“Yes yes,” Anti said with a wave of his hand, landing on his feet. Mark raised an eyebrow as the man falls, Ethan darting out and catching him just before he hit the ground. The doctor in training struggles a moment to push Anti back onto his bed before drawing back, looking to Mark as the man scoffs. 

“Idiot,” Mark states surely, shaking his head in admonishment. He tutts lightly. “You won’t be able to walk on your own for at least two or three days.”

Anti frowns deeply, eyebrows scrunching together as his deep green eyes narrow. “I don’t have the time for that,” he snapped, more to himself than the two standing in front of him. Ethan shifts and looks at the ground. “Is there anyway to make the healing go by faster.”

“Yeah,” Mark said in reply and Ethan lets out a chuckle. The young man must know what Mark is thinking. “But it’ll cost you extra on top of what you already have to pay me.”

“What? How much? I’m sure I have enough,” Anti said sternly and Ethan snorts. The man glares at the doctor in training who has to stifle another laugh. “What?”

“You want your body to heal faster, right?” Mark inquires and as Anti nods he smirks. “Alright. It’ll only cost you your legs.” 

Anti’s eyes narrow further but Mark can read the clear amusement in them. “As if you, a ranch doctor, could perform the task,” he said snarkily. 

“Want to find out?” Mark asked and his smirk grows into a grin as Anti shakes his head quickly and Ethan bursts out laughing. “Anyway,” he began, time hardening as he becomes more serious on this topic. Ethan must hear his change in voice because he catches his breath and exits the shed, probably going to check on the steed. Anti crosses his legs with a small wince, keeping his eyes on Mark. “Who shot you and why, Anti?”

The shift from smooth amusement to dark suspicion is so quick on Anti’s face Mark knows he has something to hide. The stranger shifts and leans forward, wetting his lips while crossing his legs best he could with stitching in his skin. “Those are my problems,” he replied. “You don’t worry about it.”

Mark frowns deeply and shakes his head. “It is my problem now as well, Anti,” he points out and furries his eyebrows. “I saved you and helped you front the bullet wound someone inflicted on you. Don’t think they’ll be too happy about that, now will they?”

Anti snorts and side eyes Mark, looking him up and down once more. Mark allows the close inspection once more, wondering why this man is so untrustworthy. Maybe it has something to do with the reason he was shot. 

“That may be partly true,” Anti said after a few seconds and his lips turn up in a small smirk, eyes darkening momentarily. “But it may become true fully, if what I want to happens does occur.” 

Mark raises an eyebrow and is about to ask what Anti meant when the stranger whistler loudly, nearly deafening. He’s about to ask what the hell that was about when his front door bursts open and three men pour in, each holding a different kind of gun. Mark is reaching out to grab his own pistol- which he had left on a nearby table- only for Anti to suddenly leap from the bed with surprising speed and maneuverability, pressing a knife(where had he gotten the knife?!) to the front of his neck, grabbing me of Mark’s wrists in his free hand, sharp nails digging into the skin there. Mark, and Ethan, both pause as the guns load and the blade lightly presses down. 

“Alright alright,” Anti said, his breath hitting the side of Mark’s neck. Mark stays as still as possible, breathing slowly through his mouth as he angles his chin up as far as he can with the knife against his neck. “I don’t wanna kill you or your apprentice, I actually like you, doc, but I will if you try to put up a fight. You’re going to come with me and my boys, willingly.”

Mark swallows heavily and glances at Anti through the corner of his eye, seeing the spark of adrenaline in the stranger’s green iris. He then looks to Ethan. Poor boy, he looks terrified out of his wits currently. He sighs heavily to try and collect his thoughts. 

“What’ll you do with the boy?” Mark asked, concerned for Ethan’s well-being. Sure he may be Mark’s apprentice in health, but Mark has grown to care for the young man through the few years they’d been together in. 

Mark still remembers the day he found Ethan. It was pouring down rain for once and he could hardly see anything past his hand in the darkness, but he still had a ways to travel to get home. He had been in town to treat a sick patient and was now returning on horseback. Though, he was beginning to regret doing so this night. Even with the rain he was eager to get home. 

Ethan had been curled up beneath a tree to conserve warmth, shivering and sneezing. And, because of his nature, Mark couldn’t just leave him there. 

After a few days of nursing Ethan back to health the young boy had basically begged Mark to take him on as his apprentice. He claimed he had nowhere or anything else in life to stride for. 

Mark had accepted him readily. 

“He’ll be left here, unharmed, if you cooperate,” Anti replied in a low hiss and Mark swallows once more. He then nods best he can, relieved when he’s mostly released. Well, aside from his wrist, anyway. That’s kept in a tight grip. “Atta boy. Now, come, doc, we have a long way to travel.”

“Where are we going?” Mark asked as Anti tugs him out of the house. He throws a sad glance over his shoulder as Ethan cries out to him, only staying in the doorway because of the guns trained on him. “And why am I going with you?”

Anti smirks and gestures towards his horse. Mark frowns but pulls himself up anyway, surprised when Anti takes the reins in front of him. He hates the fact that this forces him to wrap his arms around what he assumes to be a bandit now, watching as each of the other men take turns to climb onto their own horses. 

“To Bandit's Gulch,” Anti answered, confirming Mark’s assumption. Mark’s throat clogs and he tries his best to breathe. Bandit’s Gulch is where the most notorious of villains gather to form their own kind of “city”, if that’s what it could be called. If he actually went there… there’s no telling if he’d actually be coming back out. Most non-bandits never do. “And, because, doc, you are to become the town doctor. We’ve needed one for quite some time now.” He looks over his shoulder at Mark, and unnaturally toothy grin on his face. “You’re the perfect fit for our needs.” 

Oh, wonderful. 

Anti yells and kicks the horse, spurring it into action. The horse whinnies and breaks into a fast trot until a full on sprint, the unstable riding surface forcing Mark to lean closer to Anti. He looks over his shoulder one more time, watching as his Home and protege disappear into the horizon. 

And that’s how he became the doctor of a bandit clan. 

And, arguably, ended up falling in love with the man who kidnapped him in the first place. Stockholm syndrome much?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed! And, if you did, please leave a comment and/or kudos! Helps inspire me to write!


End file.
